


"Imaginary Friend"

by RogueVaramiy



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alternate Universe, But he grows up throughout the fic, Discord Event Fic, Fluff, Gift Fic, Happy Ending, I dont know how to tag things properly yet, Imaginary Friend, Kid John, M/M, Sort of Angst very temporarily, The other boys only make slight appearances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueVaramiy/pseuds/RogueVaramiy
Summary: Ever since he could first talk, everyone in his family always labelled John as the weird one; the “special” child. They would hide behind doors and whisper about him as though he couldn’t hear, but he knew, he always heard the things they said.How they called him strange for not playing with the other kids, how they said he was rude for the things he spoke out loud, how they made him out to be crazy for laughing with himself when he was “alone”.They just didn’t understand though. John wasn’t crazy, the little strong spoken child would swear it to any and all who opposed his statements.





	"Imaginary Friend"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Best Friend](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Best+Friend).



> **Another gift I did for the BBS discord I’m in. It’s a hell of a lot longer than it was supposed to be but I hope it’s enjoyable enough? I’m not very satisfied with the ending but-**
> 
> **Also I’ve never really written either of these bois so I apologize greatly if I didnt do them justice.**

Ever since he could first talk, everyone in his family always labelled John as the weird one; the “special” child. They would hide behind doors and whisper about him as though he couldn’t hear, but he knew, he always heard the things they said.

How they called him strange for not playing with the other kids, how they said he was rude for the things he spoke out loud, how they made him out to be crazy for laughing with himself when he was “alone”.

They just didn’t understand though. John wasn’t crazy, the little strong spoken child would swear it to any and all who opposed his statements.

He wasn’t alone in those moments, no. The others just couldn’t see his companions. The wispy figures who floated, danced, played, _laughed_ with him. The only beings in the whole universe who seemed to understand the eccentric child. Maybe they should’ve scared him more, what with some of the mysterious entities being more creature-like than human; red eyes and black auras plaguing their very essence.

John didn’t mind though, he was just happy to have those who understood, who were there, who could see the others, who would speak to him like he was normal.

 

John was 7 years old when _he_ first appeared.

Dirty blond locks drifted in the wind slightly as small fingers gripped old chains. He swung back and forth lazily on the decrepit swing set, curious eyes gazing across the almost empty park. The only signs of human life being his parents and one other family, whose child was running around the monkey bars laughing.

It was just another attempt from his parents to get him to play with other kids, being out here, but John remained set in avoiding other children. Instead he sat on his swing, ignoring his parents gestures and requests for him to approach the young girl now climbing the bars.

A small smile set on his slightly chubby face as a familiar chill gripped his spine, cold autumn breeze picking up and ruffling his hair. Stopping in his slow movements and leaning back on his seat, John looked behind him to be met with the sight of a white glow.

“Hey there!” his slightly excited small voice called out, bringing a twitch to the white mass. The ivory aura drifted over to him, settling itself in front of the swing with less than elegant movements.

The child was quick to make out the white figure, blobby white wisps taking form of another young boy. Wild fluffy hair adorned the other’s head, while peculiar heterochromatic red-blue eyes glowed up at him through the pale glimmer.

“You… can see me? I thought your kind couldn’t?” The entity tilted its head slightly with its question, voice soft and inquisitive.

John just smiled more and nodded his head. “I’ve always been able to see you guys, y’know, all the glowy guys!” He let out cheerfully, gesturing around himself with no real aim or reason. “What’s your name?”

Bi-colored eyes stared him down for a few moments before noiseless footsteps made their way to the swing next to his own. “Smitty.” The singular word cut through the silence, another gust of cool wind rushing between the two instantly. Despite the cold, a warmth seemed to settle in John’s stomach.

“Smitty? That’s a pretty weird name,” he teased, swinging back and forth once more, laughing at the sudden pout brought to the other’s features.

“Oh yeah? What’s your name then, butt-munch?” Smitty shot back, pointing a finger at him, causing John to laugh again lightheartedly. Any response he could’ve given was cut short though at the sudden appearance of his parents, who came up with concerned looks on their faces. His mother crouched in front of him, hand coming out to grab one of his own.

“Sweetie, who are you talking to?” The question came out in an odd tone, yet one that the young boy in her grasp was familiar with. Despite knowing the bad reaction he would probably get, John answered truthfully.

“My new friend, Smitty. He’s silly, look at his colorful eyes!” He watched as his parents exchanged looks, his mother standing back up while tugging him to his feet gently. Worry shone in her eyes, as it usually would in these moments; John was used to it now.

“Honey, this has far gone past the normal childhood imaginary friends, we need to take him,” the quiet words were muttered from his father into his mother’s ear, which he assumed he wasn’t mean to hear. A reluctant sigh left her as she looked down at the young boy, a strange smile slowly being plastered over her face.

“Come with me, sweetie, we’re gonna go for a ride now.” She started to pull him along through the grassy park, John in turn twisting around to look behind them at the swings.

“Bye, Smitty! My name’s John by the way!” He yelled out over his shoulder with a bright smile, waving to the white figure still on the structure, who waved back with his own grin.

By the time they got back to the car, John looking back once more, Smitty was gone.

 

It didn’t take long for John to realize he wasn’t recognizing any of the features passing by the car window, alluding to the suspicion they weren’t going home like he had hoped. Even being so young, it didn’t require much knowledge to know the big tan concrete building the car was soon parked in front of didn’t call for good news. The dull exterior and empty parking lot made the 7 year old uneasy, causing him to glance into the front seats at his parents in concern. “Mommy? Where are we?”

Blue eyes held thinly veiled guilt as she twisted in her seat to gaze back at him, his father seemingly ignoring he’d spoken at all. The reaction did nothing to make the one in the back seat feel better. “We’re just here to see someone who’s gonna ask you some questions, dear,” she answered softly after a moment, the whole truth being skirted around like his mother was stepping through a room of broken glass.

Messy waves of light hair bounced slightly as John cocked his tiny head to the side; his mother would’ve found the movement cute if not for her current emotional and mental state. Curious yellow tinged blue-green eyes blinked up at her before the driver’s side door was flung open, his father exiting the car and motioning for them to follow.

As the trio made their way into the building, John felt his stomach churn as he took in the sight of the waiting room. He hated waiting rooms, not to mention what they usually led to. He sat down on one of the uncomfortable chairs, his parents speaking in hushed tones to a woman who appeared by the front desk. She waved them away after a few minutes and they retreated to seats next to the 7 year old.

Minutes passed by as childish eyes were temporarily distracted by the tiny TV mounted on the dull wall, something about a _“Fall Festival”_ being described by a journalist on the screen. John turned to his mother with an innocent smile, pointing at the television. “Can we go to that, mommy?”

She blinked at him, lips parting slightly before the door on the other side of the room swung open. A tall man in blue scrubs holding a clipboard held the door open, a tiny smile on his face as he stared them down. His mother stood up abruptly at the intrusion, grasping his tiny hand and pulling him towards the door while his father stayed behind. The duo was led down a hall and to the left into a small room, the mystery man slipping behind another door as he instructed them to sit down.

By the time another person entered the room—donning pink scrubs this time—John had busied himself with watching the new presence in the corner of the room. Said entity was green in color and shaped like an orb. The worker had entered the room just as the young boy was waving at the glowing ball, mistaking it as greeting for her and waving back with a smile. A frown settling on the 7 year old’s lips momentarily before he waved again, “Oh hello, miss!” He addressed the worker this time with a grin.

She gave him an odd look as she sat down in one of the chairs opposite to the boy and his mother, pulling out a paper and beginning to ask the both of them questions centering around John.

Throughout all the questions, John had been paying more so attention to the presence in the corner—which was now flickering weirdly with black and white dots—than to the querying lady across from him. By the time she was done with her questions, both adults seemed to have pick up on the fact his mind was elsewhere.

“-John, sweetie, what are you looking at?” His mother’s words broke through his thoughts, causing him to tear his eyes away from the wavering viridian form.

He pointed over at the corner innocently, “There’s a new friend over there!” The scrubs-clad woman gave him a very hard look before writing something down on her piece of paper, causing his mother to look between the two with slight alarm.

“Listen, I know he has something wrong but you’re not going to keep him here are you? There’s medicine for these types of things, right?” She rambled on while reaching over to grab John’s arm gently, pulling him closer.

The worker glanced up at his mother, pushing loose brunette strands of hair out of her face. “Don’t worry, ma’am. This definitely needs some looking into, but I believe he’s far too young to place too many labels, nor keep him here. But-”

John zoned out again, examining the light in the corner as the other two talked about whatever. He knew there wasn’t much point in paying attention when it came to people talking about what they called his “issues”.

By the time everything was said and done, and the family was on its way back home, the 7 year old had been prescribed for some medicine he couldn’t even pronounce, and his young brain was beginning to wonder if maybe he should just keep his mouth shut about his friends.

 

Many months into taking the medicine later, John had little to no change in his sightings of entities. At this point though he had long since stopped telling his parents about them, learning that he got more positive reactions from them both if he just pretended the pills were working.

It was on one night though, the evening before his 8th birthday, that he almost slipped up and said something in front of his mother in surprise.

Just as she was sending upstairs to bed, he saw _him_ standing there on the stairs, heterochromatic eyes gleaming at him cheerfully. John stopped dead in his tracks, heels thumping into the hardwood floor, young mind taking a moment to process what appeared to be happening. This was the first time he’d ever seen the same entity more than once.

“Sweetie? Are you okay?” His mother’s voice drifted from the kitchen, blonde curls bouncing as she poked her head around the corner at the abrupt halting noise.

The soon to be 8 year old snapped out of his stupor to look back at her with a smile, “Yes, mom! Just thought I saw a big scary spider but it was just some fuzz. Goodnight, mommy!” Maybe he shouldn’t be learning to lie so much at such a young age, but the young boy didn’t feel like he had much choice at this point. As his mother called out a, “Goodnight, dear,” he looked back to the staircase, disappointment sweeping through him at the lack of bright white on the steps.

Making his way to his room with decreased vigor, he kept feeling the familiar chill down his spine but saw nothing as he scanned his surroundings. It wasn’t until he’d flopped on his bed in defeat did a soft voice break the silence. “Pillows are meant for sleeping on, not suffocating yourself with, y’know.”

John’s head shot up from where his face was buried in the soft bedding, coming face-to-face with a cheeky grin. He soon felt a similar expression sneaking its way onto his own features as he scrambled to sit up properly, leaning forward on his hands excitedly. “You came back!”

A pale eyebrow shifted upwards at him curiously. “Uh, duh? You called me your friend, right? Would be a pretty bad friend if I just left.” Smitty ended the sentence with a small laugh, curling his legs up to sit cross-legged in front of him.

“But it’s been months, why’d you take so long to show up?” John tilted his head to the side, fiddling with the blanket underneath them with his hands.

“Well I had to find you first, duh! It’s not like I just have a compass in my brain that leads directly to you or anything.” A white hand came up to tap against his head, an identically colored tongue being stuck out playfully. John rolled his eyes at the other in return, swatting at the air in front of him lazily.

“Whatever you say, _nerd._ Something tells me you’re just bad with directions!” He teased back, giggling quietly as to try not to alert his mother to him being awake.

“Oh yeah? Well at least I know how to use a pillow correctly, ya’ frickin’ _loser!”_

The rest of the night was spent with the two young boys poking at each other with no real malice, giggling away without a care in the world until eventually John slipped away into unconsciousness; Smitty disappearing from the edge of the now 8 year old’s bed once he was sure the other was asleep.

It was a pleasant surprise once John awoke in the morning to his mother yelling, _“Happy birthday!”,_ while a familiar white glow hovered in the corner, and continued to remain close by for the rest of the day. The same routine followed through for many more days to come.

 

It wasn’t hard for Smitty to become John’s best and closest friend after his return. Said friendship continued to grow over days, weeks, months, even developing into years. They told each other their secrets, spent countless days together, had so many inside jokes; John never felt the need for any “real” friends, as others would have called them.

When John was 10, his ivory companion told him a secret.

“Smitty isn’t my real name, y’know.”

The sudden admission startled the young boy as he was cleaning up his room, per his mother’s demands. Dropping his loose toys into his closet, he turned to face the familiar glowing presence on his bed. “Wait, are you serious? Why are you only just now telling me this?”

Ghostly shoulders scrunched upwards in a shrug as the other sprawled out on his bed. “Never figured it to be too important, it’s not like I know my ‘real’ name anyway. I just know it’s not Smitty.”

John quirked an eyebrow at that, making his way over to the bed to flop over top of it as well; he didn’t fail to notice as his arm phased through Smitty’s, as per usual. He’d long since learned he couldn’t touch any of the entities he’d ever encountered, his best friend included. Weirdly enough, however, they could touch objects themselves though, just not humans. “How do you know it’s not your real name then?”

A shrug was given in response again before Smitty rolled onto his side to stare him down with bright colorful eyes. “I just know somehow. It’s… Hard to explain? I really don’t know.”

John stared back at the other for a moment, clearly not following the logic behind the statement, but not willing to be distrusting of his friend’s instincts. That didn’t stop him from affectionately joking though. “Whatever, dude. Maybe you’re just crazy!” He accentuated his words by following it up with an eccentric expression, causing laughter to escape pale lips.

He wasn’t sure why, but in that moment he hoped he remembered that sound forever.

 

As time passes, the two become more inseparable each and every day. They sit on practically the same wavelength of thought, often knowing what the other is thinking about, or what they’re about to say or do. There’s almost something odd about it, but they don’t dwell on it.

When John is 12, he swears something strange happens.

“John, sweetie, can you get my jars from the garage?”

“Yes, mom!” Dirty blonde hair bounced wildly as he ran through the kitchen and out the side door to the concrete-floored room. There wasn’t any surprise when he almost ran into, or rather through, a ball of white behind the door. He had suspected the other would show up sooner or later. “‘Sup, Smit?”

The orb followed him as he rummaged through the mess of items littering the garage, and it took him a few minutes to finally find the plastic casing holding his mother’s mason jars. By the time he turned around, container of glass jars in his grasp, Smitty had taken form on top of his mother’s car while staring him down.

“Uh, somethin’ wrong, dude?” John asked warily, shuffling over to the car, jars _‘tinking’_ through the silence. Soft hair strands tickled the side of his face as he tilted his head to the side slightly, observing his best friend. Something looked off, as the other sat on the hood of the car, knees curled up, face blank, and usually lively colorful eyes looking rather dull. In general, something had seemed strange for awhile now. Lately Smitty wasn’t around quite as much as normal, when usually he was around for most days throughout the whole day. Not wanting to cause any trouble though, he’d kept his concerns to himself. Smitty had, afterall, been the one and only entity to actually come around more than once.

There was silence for a few moments, but just as white lips parted to answer, a yell rang out from the house. “John? Honey, how long does it take to get some jars?” Startled by the sudden loud voice, John jumped hard, panicking as he felt himself trip slightly and the box started slipping from his grasp.

It happened so fast, all he could do was shut his eyes and freeze up, waiting for the inevitable crash. But then he felt a cold grip on his arm that quickly steadied him and kept his hold on the jars, but just as soon as he felt it, it was gone. When blue-green eyes went to reopen, Smitty was nowhere to be found and John was left standing upright, perfectly okay.

His name was called out once more by his mother, pushing him to rush back inside without taking much time to question what just happened.

But the question of what exactly _did_ happen returned fresh in his mind for quite awhile after.

 

More time goes by. The incident in the garage goes unspoken about, but not forgotten. Smitty still remains John’s best friend, but things are still off. His glowing companion definitely comes around a lot less than normal, and while he was usually pretty blunt about things, John couldn’t bring himself to complain or question it. Given the circumstances though, he couldn’t go to anyone else to get a second opinion or anyone to comfort fears he may have though.

On top of a more scarce Smitty, he had stopped encountering other entities all together, not even so much of a trace of spine chills, beyond the ones that warned him of his best friend friend being nearby.

With all of this, the time they did spend together was still spent being very close and just as friendly, joking, and sarcasm-filled as usual.

But when John turned 14 during the summer before he started high school, it happened.

John, freshly out of the shower, had just finished getting dressed and was brushing his teeth before bed when Smitty appeared out of nowhere. For once, the newly 14 year old was startled at the other’s presence, having not even felt a chill as a warning beforehand. The sudden presence caused him to choke on his toothbrush slightly, ending in him gagging and hacking into the sink for a few moments.

“What the fuck, man. Don’t scare me like that, you dick!” He coughed out at the white figure, no real malice behind the words. Smitty just cocked his head at him, moving over to sit on the bathroom counter with a lot more grace than he had when they’d first met. Despite the pain in his throat and the stinging of tears in his eyes from gagging, John smiled softly as he recalled the memory.

“I thought you could always tell when I was nearby.” The simple, bland toned sentence, devoid of any joking, set off a tiny alarm in the blond’s mind. He quickly finished brushing his teeth before turning to face his best friend.

“What’s wrong, Smit?” A rarely seen, but well known between the two of them softness overtook his voice as he stood between the white legs hanging off the counter. He reminded himself to be careful not to accidentally slip through the other’s body, knowing Smitty hates the fact they can’t touch.

“I… I really don’t know, John. I…” Dulled red and blue eyes looked off to the side, a mysterious swirl of emotions hid behind them. A nearly noiseless sigh left pale lips; John couldn’t help but flitting his gaze to the plump flesh.

“It’s okay. I don’t know what’s wrong and you know I’m really fuckin’ ass at helping, but whatever it is, it’s okay, Smitty. And uh… I’m right here, y’know. All that shit.” The words tumbled out of him awkwardly, not quite sure what to say to his best friend to make the situation better. If he could touch the other he probably would have attempted to hug him, but given he could not, he ended up just standing there in front of the glowing body.

“Yeah… Thanks, John,” Smitty muttered, hopping off the counter and completely walking through him in the process. The feeling brought chills up the 14 year old’s spine, and nausea hit him in the back of his throat hard. But the latter may have more so been from the fact Smitty **never** just phases through him like that.

Before he could say anything about it, the white glow disappeared abruptly, causing John to panic slightly. “Smit? Smitty where’d you go?”

Loud taps resounded through the silent house as he rushed out of the bathroom and into his own bedroom, looking around wildly. He let his breath out in relief though when he saw familiar eyes peering over at him from under the blanket on his bed. Tired legs dragged the blond over to the mattress, but he sat up politely on the edge next to his friend.

With a pat of his hand against the soft fabric, white hair popped up from under the cover, followed by the rest of the other’s pallid body. John stared into heterochromatic eyes with increased seriousness. “I feel like you do know at least _something_ that is wrong; and you’re gonna have to tell me or there’s gonna be serious trouble, mister.” Despite the serious face and tone, they both knew he was still trying to be playful like always, to be the normal.

Smitty just stared at him in response though, seemingly running thoughts, ideas, or words behind those colorful eyes of his. With another tiny sigh, wild snowy hair fell in front of vibrant eyes as he tilted his head down: out of view. “John… I… I don’t even know who I am, **what** I am. These years I’ve spent with you..? I… I can’t even give an explanation for any of it, an explanation for me. And… and now I have these weird confusing thoughts and feelings and I just… I…”

He sat silently as the other tried to explain, wishing he could find a way to comfort the other. He closed his eyes for a moment to think as the other sat in front of him, hurting at the view of how pitiful he looked slumped into himself on the bed.

John’s eyelids were quickly shocked into snapping open again however, when he felt a sudden cold pressure on his lips. Astonished arms shot into the air, freezing in place as he took in the sight of Smitty directly in front of his face, mouth locked onto his own. Confusion gripped his mind as he tried to comprehend how he felt the other touching him, how they were even touching to begin with without his best friend drifting right through his body. What perplexed him even further was the fact that Smitty’s skin seemed to be a warmer, more human color than he remembered; and locks of fluffy seeming hair that had _just_ been milky in appearance, were a darkened ashen hue.

Before he could react, before he could move or speak, Smitty recoiled backwards as though touching him had burned.

John blinked.

His best friend disappeared in the split second his eyes were closed.

 

Smitty didn’t come back that night, or the next day, or the following after that. At first, that wasn’t a huge deal to John, considering his companion had become less frequently around anyway. But by the time weeks had passed, weeks turning into months, months turning into years, John had come to accept the fact that Smitty wasn’t coming back.

He also had to come to terms with the fact that the kiss they shared that one night awakened something in him, something he probably should have realized was already there for quite awhile, he just had ignored it as caring for his friend. But now that he’d realized his feelings for his one true friend were more than just them being best buds, those beautiful red and blue eyes were nothing but a memory for him to refuse to cry over in the middle of the night.

By this point, John was convinced maybe he was just mentally ill for most of his life, maybe everyone around him was right and he was just crazy. What other explanation was there for all of the entities suddenly being gone? For Smitty being gone? It’s not like anyone else was ever able to see them, hear them, touch them. He thinks maybe what he felt on his lips that night was just another part of his delirium, his brain playing tricks on him.

He wishes he didn’t remember that sweet noise he cherished so much.

His mother noticed a shift in him, but she never pried too much despite his childhood; maybe she just didn’t want to acknowledge the odd or the bad from him anymore. John was always rather sarcastic and nonchalant, but it reached a whole new level when blue-green eyes looked more dull and gray, when dark circles on pale skin became the norm. Midway through his freshman year of high school, he had been letting his hair grow out, not caring to cut or tame it. This was quickly followed by him bleaching the dirty blond color even brighter, practically white. He tried to tell himself it was just a stylistic choice rather than some strange attempt at keeping some memory of Smitty with him.

It didn’t stop there though. He started picking up the habit of biting his fingernails subconsciously, leaving him with unruly shaped nails and ripped up fingertips. There wasn’t really a rhyme or reason to it, other than without the presence of his friend, anxiety seemed to have spiked for him at quite a constant rate. This resulted in his teeth finding their way to his hands quite often without him realizing.

As John made it into his second year of high school, he actually managed to befriend a few people for the first time. He was rather unused to having more than just one friend, but his mother kept hounding him to speak to people again and without Smitty or other entities to talk to, he was finding himself rather lonely.

He found himself nestled into a rather odd group of friends, but he tried to be happy with it. He truly did like them, but they could never stop the bad habits he picked up.

One of his new friends, Toby, had learned of his nail biting habit and suggested he start painting his nails in an attempt to stop it. He’d taken the advice without much fight, and from then on regularly painted his nails. He always had an uncanny affinity for blues, reds, and white-ish nail polish though.

In an outing with the other spectrum of his friends: consisting of the boisterous Craig, tough guy Tyler, and hilarious Anthony, they’d gone to some sort of festival. The event gave him flashes of distant memories of a white waiting room that left him feeling empty. While wandering through the various stands set up in a large parking lot, Craig had pulled him over to a specific setup full of random trinkets and accessories.

“Hey, John! Come look at this, bud.”

He left his feet carry him lazily to his loud friend, gazing over the stand with much less enthusiasm. “Craig, you know I literally have jack shit for money so you better be ready to buy me a present if I find something I like. I don’t feel like sucking dick for cash today.”

“Oh my god, shut up. I just thought I’d try and get you to be somewhat interested in something today.” John just rolled his eyes at the other jokingly and went back to looking at the items on the wooden table. The whole stand was set up underneath a big tent, presumably to protect from the sun, like most of the others. The shade was a nice relief from the heat they’d been walking through for awhile, and at that thought he glanced behind him to see Tyler and Anthony had wandered off to another tent across from them.

Just as he was getting even more bored at looking at the random items, contemplating joining his other friends, his british companion called for him. “John, come look at these. They’re pretty fuckin’ dope!”

Making his way over to see what his friend was so enthusiastic about further inside the tent, he noticed a display of rings nearby. He’s not sure why they caught his eye, but he waved Craig off momentarily to go investigate. There wasn’t much special about them, just some plain bands and plastic rings with fake gems. But then he saw a particular one, stuck in the corner of the box.

He lifted the ring out to inspect it, running his finger over it and catching Craig’s attention. “Whatcha’ got there, buddy?”

“Buy me this, consider if payment for forcing me to come out here in the first place, you whore,” he grinned lazily at the other, handing the ring over to the brit.

“Just this? What’s so special about it?”

John shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, sauntering out to the front of the tent again where the person running it stood. “Just caught my eye is all.” The half-lie fell off his tongue easily, glancing back at his friend.

The ring was the first of quite a few that he would collect and wear daily, but the white band that turned shades of blue and red when rubbed—almost like a defective mood ring—would always be his favorite.

 

When John was 17, beginning his final year of high school, everything fell into place.

A yawn escaped chapped lips as John pretended to pay attention to what was being said by the teacher. The class had been passing by too slowly and he just wanted to move on to the next and get the day over with; he was only in his first class. He hadn’t slept much last night and was running on empty already.

After about fifteen more minutes of the old man babbling on about some historical thing, the bell finally rang. Despite his wish of the class ending, he took his time in grabbing his things and wandering out of the room into the hall. He passed by Cam in the hall, throwing him a lazy peace sign as he went before dipping around a corner and into his next class, health; he’d neglected to take it in any previous years.

After settling into his seat as normal, he turned his head to listen to a conversation happening in the other corner of the classroom. Two girls were talking with each other, muttering and giggling something about some “new kid”, as far as he could hear.

By the time class was supposed to be starting and the teacher was setting up her computer fully, the door swung open. Stumbling in through the door was someone John didn’t recognize.

“Oh, there you are. I was beginning to think you’d be late, you made it just in time. Feel free to sit in any of the open seats, I’ll get you settled into the seating chart by tomorrow,” the teacher called out to the new person as she typed away at her computer. The boy by the door responded with a nod and awkwardly shuffled over to the side of the classroom that John sat at, taking an empty seat 2 rows away.

Yellow tinted blue-green eyes watched the boy curiously, something seemed slightly familiar about him, and John was struggling to figure out exactly what it was. He didn’t have time to observe the other or ponder his thoughts much longer before class actually began and he was forced to pay attention. While he didn’t much care himself, his mother might kill him if he doesn’t pass and get the credit for said class.

 

By the time lunch rolled around, John was beyond ready to take a much needed nap. He subconsciously fiddled with the rings around his fingers as he dragged himself down the hallway towards the cafeteria. Reaching the open expanse that led into the room full of people already eating, he didn’t pay much attention as he headed for the line that entered the actual kitchen.

On account on his lack of focus, it really shouldn’t have surprised him that much when he bumped into somebody rather hard. “Ah, shit! Sorry, man!”

The voice that reached his ears caused John to freeze on the spot, eyes wide. Actually taking a moment to observe who he ran into, he realized it was the new guy from earlier in the day. What struck him so suddenly though was how _familiar_ the voice had sounded, causing images of glowing heterochromatic eyes to flit through his brain.

But the eyes he looked into weren’t the primary colors he remembered, they were brown; the white hair he was expecting wasn’t white at all, it was dark chocolate-like color as well.

John felt himself falter slightly at the realization, mentally berating himself for getting so hopeful. He already accepted his past was nothing but his own mind being fucked up. But when the voice spoke again, bittersweetly remaining so recognizable, John felt his heart squeezing painfully. “Uh, hello? Earth to blondie?”

He shook himself from his depressing and shocked stupor, straightening up. “Yeah, uh, it’s okay dude. My dumbass fault for not watching where I was going.” He laughed it off weakly, hoping this stranger wouldn’t pry about how cracked his voice sounded.

The brunet cocked his head at him-

 _-the same way Smitty used to so cutely-_

-but didn’t ask any questions. “Alright, man. Sorry again, it’s my first day here so I’m a little on edge and not paying attention well either, haha,” the other laughed it off so easily, and John felt like he might go insane if that noise didn’t stop sounding so perfectly the same.

Go insane, hah. That’s the reason he was even feeling this pain right now anyway, his own craziness.

“It’s cool. I’m uh, gonna go get my food now,” he let out lamely, gesturing to the line before turning to retreat in the same direction.

“Oh yeah, me too!” John almost groaned out loud as the other caught up to him. It’s not like he was annoying, but the memories the guy was making resurface was making his skin crawl. “Say, what’s your name, blondie?”

He glanced over at the other for a moment before turning back with a silent sigh while running his fingers through long pale hair. “John.”

He was startled for a moment when his walking companion suddenly stopped with an audible squeak of his shoes on the tile floor. He turned to look back at the one now frozen on the spot, something feeling almost comical about the switched roles. “You okay?” He asked before he could even think about why he’d be worried enough to ask in the first place.

“U-uh… Yeah… Yeah, it’s nothing, haha. Just um, thought I saw someone I knew!” he stumbled around his words weirdly, causing John to be slightly suspicious, but he shrugged it off.

“Alright, what about you then? Your name, I mean.” They continued their way through the lunch line, grabbing their food. He found it easier to just play along with talking to the other, something almost soothing about it despite how much it hurt at the same time.

“Oh, it’s Jaren.”

They made their way out of line after punching in their student numbers for the meals, John letting Jaren follow him as he walked through the cafeteria towards the door where he usually sat outside to eat. Once outside, he sat down on the cement, tray in his lap.

“Jaren, huh? That’s a pretty weird name.” The brunet settling down next to him with a fake gasp of hurt.

“Oh yeah? Like yours is any better, _butt-munch!”_

John almost choked on the piece of pizza he had just bitten into at that reply, looking over slowly at the shit-eating grin plastered to Jaren’s face. He let the hand holding his food fall away from his mouth, swallowing the bite he’d taken; wondering how stupid his bewildered face must look right now.

He doesn’t know why he let the word fall from his mouth, there’s no way, there’s no possibility, it was just a coincidence, just by accident that it was so similar to then. _And yet-_

“Smit?”

Somehow, the ecstatic grin on the other’s face grew even larger. John’s chest swelled with hope.

“Hey, buddy. I finally remembered my real name.” And with those soft spoken words, he didn’t care when his tray fell from his lap and scattered his lunch across the pavement. He didn’t care when his leg scuffed the hard ground the wrong way in his movement. He didn’t care of the consequences as he practically lunged forward and pulled Jaren into his grasp. He didn’t care what anyone had ever said or thought about him when his lips collided with his best friend’s, much warmer than they had been years ago.

Maybe he was crazy all those years of his childhood. Maybe what his family had said about him was true in some ways, he didn’t have an imaginary friend.

Because crazy or not, the smaller body cradled in his arms was far more real than he could ever fantasize about; and as Jaren kissed back and clung to him with just as much neediness, John knew the emotions spurring words to rise in his throat were far from imagined.

_**“I love you.”** _


End file.
